Page 64 of Meeting Her Mate
I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. I smiled at her and set the tray on the table. “I found a crate of those in the storage of my ship. Those were vintages when I bought them in Germany. This one’s from 1855. We have eleven more bottles below.”
“Jesus Christ!” Alexis said. “Do you realize how expensive these would be?”
“Ah, yes, but they’re not for sale. I want to drink them with you. There’s no price to be put on enjoying a nice vintage with a woman you love,” I said.
“You’re killing me,” Alexis said, putting her hands over her heart. “How on earth did you get those?”
“So, before the First World War, a lot of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape was sent to Burgundy in France to help with their wine-making. They would add this wine to their mixes to make the alcohol level stronger and to make the color redder. However, some of those bottles were never opened. So, a few years before the war, I happened to be in Burgundy when a fellow werewolf friend of mine gifted me these in return for me fixing his ship,” I said, taking the cork off the bottle to aerate the wine and letting the tannins mix.
“You know what amazes me about you? You’re filled with stories. Everything you do or say has a story behind it. That’s so enriching. I can’t even tell you. Sometimes I feel inadequate in the face of all your stories. I don’t even have any stories yet,” Alexis said.
“Together, we’ll write newer stories, stories that are better than the ones I have told you,” I said, pouring the wine into our glasses. “Meanwhile, help yourself to the assortments.” I pointed at the charcuterie tray.
“You went above and beyond,” Alexis said, helping herself to some cured meats. “Did you cook these yourself?”
“Kroeger’s,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I was buying cheese when one of the shopkeepers said that they had cured meats too.”
“Kroeger’s is the best,” Alexis said.
“They really do have the best variety of things, don’t they? I spent two hours in that store last night,” I said. “They even half-convinced me to buy a smartphone.”
“One of these days, you’re going to have to get over your tech-phobia,” Alexis said, pairing the wine with the cheese.
We clinked glasses and drank together. The wine was exquisite. As it entered my mouth, an aroma gushed through me, and the mellowest flavor with earthy undertones greeted my palette. I drank it slowly to savor each sip.
“Tell me more about your life in Germany,” Alexis said. “In the movies, they show the German countryside to be so serene. Was it like that?”
“Plump cows used to graze in those meadows. Windmills turned in the slow wind. As far as the eye could see, there were green pastures studded with the oldest of trees. It’s no wonder that so many fantasy stories came out of Germany. It was truly one of the most beautiful places in the world. On the rural roads, horse-drawn carriages would deliver milk, hay, beer, and meats to the villages. People were kinder back then. Apolitical people, specifically. The Germany I remember was not yet permeated by Hitler’s sordid philosophy. Berlin and Munich might have fallen to the Nazi Propaganda, but the villages, where people’s hearts were pure, and they bore no ill will, thrived in secluded harmony. It was only until things took the most harrowing turn and things came to an abrupt change that we had to leave that country like so many other people who did not care for the war and the politics,” I said. Alexis had poured me another glass of wine while I talked, and I had been drinking it while talking. I now poured myself another glass and did the same for Alexis.
“Tell me what it was like being a werewolf back in those days,” Alexis asked, nibbling on cheese.
“The wolves…”
Chapter 23: Alexis
“…were ferocious,” Will said. At once, his eyes lit up with fervor, and he gestured grandly in the air, describing that ferocity with more than words.
I could not get enough of this wine. Never in my life had I ever tasted something so delicious. It made the inside of my mouth melt in an explosion of rich flavor. After all the time it had spent aging in the ship, it had become more potent than any liquor I had tried. Three glasses, and I was already quite tipsy.
“Ferocious?” I asked, my voice slurring slightly as I struggled to stay within the limits of sobriety. I could not help myself as I poured another glass of wine. The scenery of the evening sea, the company of my mate, and the delectable taste of the vintage wine were nothing short of heavenly. The cool air blew in my face as I relaxed my back against the comfortable chair. I was already feeling full, having eaten half the cured meats on the charcuterie board along with the cheese.
“Ah, yes,” Will continued. “The villagers told tales about the werewolves running across the countryside. But we were not dangerous. There’s a marked difference between ferocity and being dangerous. Aye, we would hunt. We’d mark our prey and give it a chase through the forests. Don’t fret. We did not hunt humans. We only preyed upon animals that made us stretch our limbs. Deer, rabbits, and other fast creatures that raced through the woods. We also stuck close to each other. There were many packs in Germany, and sometimes they would clash with each other. But it was all in good fun. As a species, we werewolves were very united in our creed.”
“Will, I think I’m drunk,” I said, barely able to hold on to his words. The world was swimming in front of my eyes. “How strong was that wine anyway?”
“Strong enough to make me drunk as well,” Will said. “May we retire to the bedroom below deck? Get some rest? I have something awesome planned for tomorrow.”
“We can go below deck, but I don’t think there’s going to be much sleeping,” I said, surprising myself at my boldness. Being out here was so freeing. It was just me, him, the moon, and the ocean. The slight sound of the gentle sea and the occasional creaking of the ship’s wood created the perfect atmosphere. I didn’t want to go below deck just yet. The dim yellow bulbs shone in the night sky, accompanied by the moon, and created a warm halo of light around our ship. The ocean underneath the ship was clear, allowing me to see the reefs, corals, and fish swimming in the shallow water.
“Look, Alexis, the stars,” Will said, pointing upwards. It did not occur to me that we were so far away from the city and all its pollution that the night sky was completely unadulterated. As I lifted my head up, I saw the constellations in all their glory. They shone brightly across the sky, like gems studded in the ceiling of the world. In the shimmering starlight, I felt like a character in a fantasy setting.
By now, the drunkenness was taking a deep hold of my senses, lulling me into a sense of warmth and drowsiness. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but it was a futile attempt. Wordlessly, I went to Will and hugged him. He enveloped me in his muscular arms.
We slunk to the deck, lying in each other’s arms, looking at the stars, the moon, and the glimmering sea. And this is how I fell asleep.
I did not know when Will took me downstairs and tucked me in the bed. I did not even know for how long I slept. All I knew was that when I woke up, Will was lying beside me, fast asleep, and the morning sun was shining through the windows. Surprisingly, my head wasn’t heavy, and there were no signs of a hangover, even though Will and I had emptied a bottle of very strong wine.
From where I lay, I eyed a bag of coffee on the kitchenette counter across the room. My body yearned for some coffee. It took me a few seconds to realize, once the bed began bobbing just a little, that I was on a boat.